


Nature

by Lizlow



Series: Magnum Opus [1]
Category: Code:Realize ～創世の姫君～ | Code: Realize - Guardian of Rebirth (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 18:17:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16728477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizlow/pseuds/Lizlow
Summary: Silently, the girl stares down at the single, brightly-colored flower, blooming amid a sea of white. She does her best to hold back her tears, for fear that such a river will surely hurt them. Such a beautiful beam of hope… it should be free, in a place where it can receive the love it deserves.The precaution she has begun to take weighs heavy on the heart of the Doctor too.





	Nature

**Author's Note:**

> This AU was born from the discussions of a friend and I for our old Rp blogs. This idea is that Victor, unwittingly, has a more involved hand in the process... I meant for the actual "introduction" chapters to be done before posting little fics for scenes that wouldn't be in the main one, but that prompt challenge will change things!

Silently, the girl stares down at the single, brightly-colored flower, blooming amid a sea of white. She does her best to hold back her tears, for fear that such a river will surely hurt them. Such a beautiful beam of hope... it should be free, in a place where it can receive the love it deserves.

The precaution she has begun to take weighs heavy on the heart of the Doctor too.

_It’s my fault_...

He thinks this as he looks out to her through the window. He thinks... she’s very much like that the one, stand-out flower. A special light that leads the blend, to reach out and be what they wish to be. Her circumstances are the furthest from nature possible - they _defy_ it.

Yet, her care is so much more human, so much more genuine, than he can really describe.

She’s insisted on him keeping his distance from her, and with eyes that have been drained of innocent light, she closes her door. Of course, hearing her story, there are risks in staying in close quarters with her, in the state she’s in now, but he wishes to free her from those chains.

He’s... afraid, afraid to relinquish the depths of his own ailments. She doesn’t need to hear his woes, when she’s so captured by her own. Support her, keep going. Even if he falls ill, he’ll do his best to hide it, to not give way to _her_ being pained more. That would be calling upon the darkness far too well.

The _Doctor_ , and the tale he hasn’t told her, of his involvement with her father, and the other voices he knew. How the poison that was his creation seeped and flowed within her views, the jewels of her heart being made by genius of an unwitting variety. At the very least, he can say a few light words, ones that his usual status won’t allow him to withhold.

He’s taught her bits and pieces here and there, when she’s feeling up to listening, but never anything about sneaking around, for he is also poor at it. A simple alchemist, laying claim to benevolence, even if he knows that the worst way, that’s it’s false. This is why when he exits and goes to the courtyard, he makes his steps known, so she is not surprised. He wonders, if there’s a certain sound to his footsteps, if she’d used to them.

“Doctor?” she speaks. There’s something ethereal about this moment. As if he, himself, is separate from humanity, more than she. This beautiful, young lady, looking at him under the glow of the moon light, with a small garden of flowers as her stage. Cardia turns her head, to face him, her face resting neutrally, only a hint of questioning swirling within.

With his transgressions, he may as well have. Because Issac Beckford took advantage of his research, and his weakness, the “monster” was born, against nature’s will, but the only monsters are those who don’t let her be, and the burdens that weigh down her shoulders that shouldn’t be there.

“Cardia,” Victor is almost rendered entirely speechless. If the natural world is fair at all, ten something will heed his all. These hands, stained with sin, do not, should not, contain happiness. There’s no true redemption.

Yet, he will do all he can.

Even with his meager funds - _he_ can’t do it all alone. Even with her there, they need all the help they can get.

She should be surrounded by people that are more lively than he is, people that won’t shun her, hate her, drive her to turn to isolation.

“I’m sorry.”

She stands, cautiously turning to face him in full. That’s what she read was proper, so she does her best to follow suit. “For what, Doctor?”

“I...”

Carefully, he approaches her, wrapping his arm loosely around her shoulder, pulling her into a side hug. He’s taken the time, though difficulties did lay within, to poison-proof his clothes, so that she may be that much closer to a _fellow_ being. But, of course, he doesn’t want to put her in an entirely uncomfortable situation.

“I want to help you live a better life.”

He can feel that she’s tense, unable to move, to know _how_ to move, but adverse to the idea of him being so close. She closes her eyes. Those feelings, such as the expected of the Doctor, but she... does she accept his kindness, when it’s already downed him?

Unlike what some people could possible do, he can’t make any promises. He’s not a magnificent man who can make the impossible possible. He’s not happy-go-lucky, a supercharger, or a defier of time. What good is genius for, if it’s only brought catastrophic sorrow?

“Doctor, I--” Her voice, soft, quiet. A bud yet to bloom.

“A-Ah... You really can call me, ‘Fran.’” he tells her, “It’s easier.” Less formal, more fitting.

“Fran, I... don’t want to hurt you.”

Just the nature of things. He releases her, stepping back, quickly flushing out a genuine apology, knowing that yes, she’ll feel better this way.

He’ll do all he can to help her, to give her a brighter, more real world. With each finger, though they might tremble in cowardice, he grips at the string of hope. It’s the least he can do. If she’s called a ostner, then he’ll claim lay to that, to lift her burden, share it.

_Even if she was to truly become a monster now, he..._ would stick by her side.

It’s not her fault.

But now that she’s alive, she should live, be loved.

He watches as her arms wrap around herself. _Ah_ , she’s withdrawing into herself. Not... that he’s much different.

He doesn’t doubt another day will come to once again change things. There is no balance... he’ll try to be ready. Or the unique flower, whose gift is there, he cannot run away any longer.


End file.
